


Broken Wings

by bittenfeld



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash, Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5244728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a short one-page beginning of an unfinished bit.  Poplan and Konev were always a favorite pairing of mine.  I always figured that all the Spartanian pilots took care of each other… ummm, very well… But there was something special between these two.  And behind Poplan’s bouncy silly exterior lay a tender heart – so tender that it was devastated by his partner’s death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I may write more on this later, or may just leave it as a sweet little tidbit of happier times…

“C’mon, put the damn book down. I know a whole lot better entertainment than those stupid crosswords,” his bed-partner whined again. And punctuated the suggestion with a long slow lick up the inside of Konev’s thigh to the hem of his briefs. “C’mon, man…”

But for the moment, the blond’s interest remained fixed on pencil and paper, and only a slight shift of legs and a tiny smile responded to the moist enticement. “Yeah, just a minute,” he mur­mured, hastily scribbling in a few more squares. After supper and bath, Konev sat propped up on the bed, clad only in conservative white T-shirt and shorts, crossword book in lap. “I’m just about done. I’ve been at this all afternoon – just let me finish a few more lines.”

All afternoon – which had included the sudden appearance of a flotilla of Imperial cruisers and a three-hour sortie with swarms of Valkyries. Luckily the goddess of Victory had smiled on the Alliance this time, and the enemy was sent limping back home to their mother fleet.

“The whole afternoon, huh?” A probe of wet tongue behind a bent knee. “Gee, it must be tougher than kindergarten level.”

“Too tough for you,” Konev retorted, gaze still fixed on the puzzle, “ – the words are more than two syllables.”

A quick kiss in the tongue’s wake, then abruptly a lean body climbed atop Konev’s, fingers pushed the book down, and a bright face stared inches away from Ivan’s. “Hey, I got one for you: Six letters for really horny and _extremely_ frustrated. Give ya a hint: the first letter is ‘P’. ”

Konev looked up into dancing blue eyes. “And does this hint also have orange hair and a smart mouth?”

Poplan’s tongue prodded the corner of smiling lips. “This ‘hint’ wants to fuck your damn brains out, if you’ll just drop the fucking book.”

“Oh, is _that_ what you had in mind?” came the riposte, and book and pencil dropped carelessly to the floor. “Why didn’t you say so before?” And sliding down the bed to lie more comfortably, the towhead wrapped arms around his bed-partner’s neck, lips parted in welcome.

Those sensual pink lips captured Olivier’s gaze; and of its own accord, Poplan’s cock twitched against Konev’s thigh. “Oh yeah, now who’s got the smart mouth?” he muttered, “…damn fucking smartass…” vocabulary and verbal skills rapidly deteriorating to monosyllables, before he quickly surrendered all attempts at speech, and simply attacked that luscious mouth and body.

For Poplan, combat lust always translated into bedroom lust, and the more eager he was to get there. Post-battle debriefings invariably drove him wild with frustration. Someday – he had once warned Konev – he wasn’t going to wait until after debriefing, but yank the blond out of his Spartanian fighter right after landing, jerk off both their flight-suits, and screw him right there on the hangar deck, in view of the other officers, technicians, flight cadets, and everyone else. “…sure, promises, promises…” Konev had teased.

. . . . .

 _to be continued someday_ …

 


End file.
